


Entombed

by Dramance



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Bone Breaking, Degrading kink, Dubious Consent, I don't know much about vampire lore, Kinda, M/M, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, Scratching, Stabbing, Vampire Dib, Vampire Sex, Violence, enemy relationship, hardcore fucking, let me know if I missed things!, on some things, so if I messed up i'm sorry, they're both horny for each other but one of them doesn't wanna admit it, you can probably guess who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramance/pseuds/Dramance
Summary: The quiet thrum of the machines has been a constant, comforting beat in the background, like a pulse. A sign of life among the otherwise quiet recesses of an Irken laboratory. Zim was quite fond of his machines working around him, that pulse a dull throb along his antennae. He worked on menial things nowadays, little trinkets that showed he was busy but didn’t require much thought despite how long he spent working on them. He preferred his thoughts be directed elsewhere, away from the cogs and gears of the underground, metal lab.A lab that has become a tomb for the small Irken.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	Entombed

**Author's Note:**

> At long last, this piece is finally done! Too ling this has sat in my google docs and unable to be finished. Today is the day I present you with a vampire!Dib fic! Thanks to all my followers on twitter for being so patient with me while I wrote this. Y'all deserve a medal and lots of love. I also want to thank the amazing [ ClapAlienCheex](https://twitter.com/ClapAlienCheex) for beta reading and critiquing for me. You're amazing!
> 
> Anyhow, please enjoy!

The quiet thrum of the machines has been a constant, comforting beat in the background, like a pulse. A sign of life among the otherwise quiet recesses of an Irken laboratory. Zim was quite fond of his machines working around him, that pulse a dull throb along his antennae. He worked on menial things nowadays, little trinkets that showed he was busy but didn’t require much thought despite how long he spent working on them. He preferred his thoughts be directed elsewhere, away from the cogs and gears of the underground, metal lab.

A lab that has become a tomb for the small Irken.

Zim twisted his screwdriver tighter, the coils of the spring on his little device groaning as it was forced to conform to the constriction. It clicked in time with the cogs of the lab. He paid no mind to it. Another pulse to fall on deaf ears.

It had been close to 5 months since he'd seen the surface of the planet, according to his PAK. It was always counting. Scolding. Reminding him how long it had been since he received that life altering message from The Tallests. Reminding him how long it's been since he failed to fulfill his mission. Reminding him how he was willfully locking himself away with  _ him. _

He didn’t like being called an it.

Zim twisted the screwdriver again, surely making the spring coil too tightly. It was not healthy for any kind of creature to be cooped up in a hole for so long, let alone one as dark and cold as an Irken lab. He had heard stories of lesser creatures going insane from the isolation, how they craved some sort of tangible sense to keep them grounded in their pathetic reality. He didn’t worry about that, though, for he was no lesser creature, but the finest Irken to ever exist on Irk; it didn’t matter that no one treated him as such. Besides, the cogs were his grounded sense.

A pipe hissed somewhere in the background. Zim scowled and ignored a twitch that tickled his right eye. 5 months down in the bowels of an enemy planet was such a long time to think, even for an Irken, especially with nothing to do. He had few distractions besides his little trinkets—his useless toys—but they were distractions nonetheless. The pulse was the obvious one. A sound he never minded but could never listen to on its own for long. He shut his eyes tight, maintaining his grip on the screwdriver and forced his antennae to listen deeper, further underground beneath the pulse, to the stomach of his base. It was faint at first, but he heard it: a gurgled scream. There were several, actually, but Zim focused on the one. He couldn’t tell if it belonged to the male or female of the human species of this planet, but it certainly didn’t really matter. They all blended together if you heard enough of them.

He was feeding, which meant he would be here soon.

Zim’s lips curled into an unsatisfied snarl. One of his distractions, that creature. That thing. That  _ beast.  _ Zim could tell he adored that word used to describe himself, but Zim would strike it with as much venom as possible when he used it. Being stuck down here was his fault. A daily reminder that boiled in his gut, like the screams in the stomach of the base, constantly reminding him along with the 5 months 14 days 9 hours and 27 minutes.

The spring snapped, and Zim threw the device with such force that it shattered against the far wall behind him. Useless. Another trifle to add to the ever growing junk pile at his disposal. The whole motion left him out of breath, even though he had only been sitting and tightening a spring. He quietly seethed, letting the emotion wash over him before he tucked it away to never process. He had been working too long to let some broken pile of parts get to him.

“I believe it could’ve worked had you stopped tightening it,” a smooth voice stated, echoing around the room.

Zim didn’t flinch. He closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. That time of day again. “And I thought I made it perfectly clear not to interrupt me,” he hissed.

An airy chuckle sounded, a smirk easy to imagine along with it. “You stay in here too long tampering with your little toys. You can be so boring in that regard, and there isn’t much for me to do with my spare time...well, rather than the obvious.”

Zim clenched and unclenched his fists, rolling his shoulders as he folded his arms behind his back. “You are a nuisance to care for. You are going to run out of food if you keep up this reckless behavior.” That was only half true. While the beast was, indeed, annoying to care for with his very distinct palette, he was very careful about rationing his food. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t complain.

“It isn’t  _ my  _ fault that I can’t fully enjoy my meals nowadays,” the voice scoffed. Zim swore he could feel it slithering across the room. “Feeding is so boring when I don’t have the...thrill of the hunt.”

It was Zim’s turn to chuckle. “For such an advanced creature, you are still quite primitive...” A PAK leg shot out from Zim’s back and speared the air behind him. He didn’t flinch as it struck it’s prey and whipped it forward with an annoyed grunt.  _ “Dib.” _

The creature that landed at his feet rolled onto his back, his slick, black hair greasing the grated floor as he curled into a sitting position. The wound through his chest was ugly and had torn through black leather, leaving a nasty hole in its wake as mud-red blood oozed out of it. He smirked, red-tinted lips exposing lethal fangs. “Such harsh words,  _ Zim.  _ And come on, man, this was my favorite coat.”

Zim could smell the iron, the  _ blood  _ radiating off his skin. His usual stink, especially after his feeding, yet Zim never commented. While the stench of a lower life form was far from pleasant, it was a reminder that Dib was not some lowly life form, either. He was a hunter, a killer, one that looked and acted like a human but bared fangs and craved death much like an Irken. It fascinated Zim how such a primitive creature could become something more powerful than the populous it walked among, and how it yearned to destroy them as well. It was quite an encounter to find the tall beast hunched over a corpse as blood dripped from its chin.

“Perhaps that’ll teach you to wander in here, then.” Despite instinct telling him otherwise, Zim placed himself back in his chair with his back to Dib and began gathering new parts for a new trinket.

The gears continued to tick away, their presence vocal as the room drifted back to a short silence.

“You know I can’t stay away.” Dib’s voice came from above him, and Zim barely spared him an upwards glance before turning back to his tools, but not quick enough to miss his cocky smirk. The beast tended to move around his base in nimble silence. Zim could barely detect his footsteps and often found himself startled when he left Dib in one corner of the room, only to turn around and find him right in front of him—sometimes standing on the ceiling if Dib was being especially…“cheeky” that day. Now, he sat atop his large computer screen with a leg dangling over, an arm draped over his other knee.

“And exactly what draws you here is beyond me considering I send you away with plenty of broken bones.” Zim connected a few bolts and gave them a tight crank. “Daily, I might add.”

Dib chuckled again, before reaching around Zim and resting his hands atop the Irkens. “Oh, but you  _ love  _ giving me those,” he whispered along his antennae.

Zim tensed beneath the chilling touch as Dib’s unexpected voice vibrated up his spine. He hated when he moved like that, and that’s exactly why Dib did it. Zim slowly took in a breath. “I give them to you because you do things like _this.”_ Zim slipped his hands out from beneath the pale ones and spun the chair around. “Out of here. Now.”

“Oh,  _ Zim,”  _ Dib moaned, his pale lips pouting. “Don’t be like that. Don’t send me away.” He crouched down to eye-level, and Zim forced his gaze to watch his dangerous mouth. That mouth tore throats and ate heartbeats out of existence, the two pointed teeth just as lethal as any weapon Zim could make. Yet, if his mouth was the tool, his eyes were the executioner. Those eyes were evil and did nasty things when he looked into them; made him feel and think things no Irken soldier should. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dib knew it, too, and that’s why he did his best to force eye contact. Luckily, Zim’s red eyes were sneaky, impossible to tell where they were looking. Faux eye contact.

He scowled. “You don’t require my company, you’re just bored, Dib-beast.”

The pout melted away into a scowl. “Then perhaps I shall just go frolic in the hills and pick daisies for you when I return. Oh wait! I _can’t_ do that because you won’t _let_ me,” he growled, the honey-sweet charm melting into bitter resentment as he tugged on the metallic collar around his neck. A device of Zim’s design that’s kept him from doing said things. A device he felt too much pride in to ever admit.

“Oh, please,” Zim scoffed, turning back around and grabbing a welding gun. “You and I both know there is nothing for you to  _ do  _ up there, anyway.”

Zim had made sure of it. It was only fair, afterall. That beast was the reason he was not able to fall into line for the ones he was conquering this filthy back-water planet for, and because he was not able to fall into line, he was disgraced and left here. The empire was not made to have time for broken, useless,  _ defective  _ tools. He was left here, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave, and it was all  _ his  _ fault. That creature, that filthy  _ beast  _ had done something to him. Poisoned him with that treacherous mouth with lies and venom. He killed him and discarded him like every other being he came across, took everything away from him without even trying. Well, now it was the beast’s turn to feel what it was like to be trapped. He looked and acted like a human but could never die and be buried like one, so how fitting for a beast of such power to be encased forever in a tomb he could never rest in.

Another pipe hissed. “That’s not the point,” Dib spat.

“And what is the point, then?” Zim pulled on some work goggles and switched on the welding gun, but before he could weld anything together, the chair was spun around and the gun was snatched from his hand.

“Let me out, Zim. You know we both can’t stand it down here.” Dib flicked on the welding gun, bringing the blue fire close to his fingertip. He watched with a bored expression as he seared his own skin. The smell of burning, dead flesh was acrid as the pulse beat louder. “You’re wasting away on needless toys that do nothing more than frustrate you when they break, and it’s not just the blood I need, but the thrill of the hunt!” He threw the welding gun to the side and Zim’s antennae twitched as it clattered against the metal. Zim found it ironic that Dib didn’t appreciate their little tomb.

“I need to hear their racing pulse as they flee in terror.” Dib loomed over him, pushing the back of his chair against the desk behind him; so much strength behind a simple act. “I need to see their dilated eyes as I tower over them.” He traced his fingers along Zim’s jawline, his claws delicately scratching his green skin. “I need to feel their bones breaking beneath my fingers. I need to taste…” he dragged his lips along the skin of Zim’s neck, those fangs itching to break his skin, “their sweet, sweet blood on my tongue as they choke, their life slowly draining from their body.” He pulled away and traced his nails up Zim’s cheek, slender fingers removing the goggles as he titled his chin upwards. Zim let it happen, made no move to avert his eyes as those golden orbs seared his flesh, as pearled fangs unsheathed from his lips. The executioner readying his weapon.

“I need…” his tongue slid out of his mouth, gliding slowly along his lips, “to hunt…”

And he had already chosen his prey.

Zim couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. Those amber eyes glinted gold in the shadows, their presence a fool’s treasure drawing in the weak with the promise of riches. They promised so many things to him should he roll over to the predator above him. But he wouldn’t. Zim’s PAK legs shot out from behind him and pinned Dib to the floor grates, the sharp tips spearing through his wrists and ankles, anchoring him. Zim didn’t flinch as he heard the beast’s bones  _ snap  _ as a dangerous smile threatened to play on his lips. He kept that toxic eye contact the whole time as he folded his hands to lean his chin on them. “I am not so stupid to let you out, Dib-beast. In case you have forgotten, you are  _ mine  _ to do with as I please, not the other way around. It is your punishment to reside down here with me.”

Dib rolled his head to look up at one of his nearly severed wrists. He flexed his fingers and moved his hand experimentally, muttering an unemotional “ow” before turning to look back at Zim. “My punishment?” He smiled. “It’s not a punishment if I’m not in pain.”

Zim wasn’t surprised when he was ripped from the chair, but that couldn’t stop the tiny shriek that slipped from his mouth as he was slammed into a nearby machine. The hollow sound echoed with the quickening pulse, which he convinced himself to be the lab rather than his own. Zim’s PAK legs retreated back into the safe compartment as his arms were pinned in a grip meant to sever limbs. “And I know…” Dib’s face was in his neck and that mouth, those fangs, were on his neck, threatening to break the skin, “that you have been going easy on me.”

Zim growled and kicked Dib’s legs out from under him, sending him to the ground again. However, before Zim could pounce, Dib was gone. His squeedlyspooch flipped as the world turned upside down, and he was slammed face-down against the ceiling, and he knew it was the ceiling from the way gravity beckoned him down. He growled again, not taking too kindly to being jerked around like a toy, even if Dib thought differently. “I have killed millions, tortured thousands! You will cry for mercy at the hands of Zim!”

“I cry because you are  _ too  _ merciful,” Dib breathed, his voice raspy as he pressed his cold body against Zim. “You’re a very strong, ugly, beautiful creature that doesn’t take orders from anyone. Yet,” Zim could  _ hear  _ the smirk as Dib grinded his hips down, his fingers tearing through his uniform, “you let me take advantage of you like this, allow me to defile you in such a way that is surely  _ disgraceful.” _

One of Zim's PAK legs speared Dib once more and he lost his grip, causing the two to drop like bricks down to the unforgiving ground of the labs. There was an audible  _ CRACK!  _ as they smacked the floor, but Zim recovered quickly enough to stand and stomp over to where Dib lied, his back snapped and limbs twisted at unnatural angles. He gave a wheezy laugh as Zim straddled him and clawed at his throat. “Let’s get one thing straight, you  _ beast:  _ I am  _ not  _ your submissive plaything,” he hissed, ignoring the burning fire of adrenaline coursing through his veins both from their actions and his body working to repair itself. “I am an invader, and I submit to  _ no one!” _

“Bullshit,” Dib barked, choking on a laugh as he coughed up blood. “If that was the case you would’ve killed me loooooong ago. I know the things you’re capable of, and only I know. And you know it, too, don’t you?”

“Lies,” Zim growled, his claws puncturing the thin skin of Dib’s neck. “Zim doesn’t need you.”

“Oh, but you do,” Dib whispered, “because you refuse to let me go.”

Zim’s eyes involuntarily dropped to the silver collar, nestled right above his claws. The device had left a nasty bruise from the crash, the blues mixing with the reds to create an ugly purple. Zim eyed the device, a mixture of pride and resentment churning in his spooch. That thing kept Dib down here for many reasons: so he didn’t run, so he could be subdued, so Zim always knew where he was. Yet, it wasn’t what the collar did that Zim liked, rather what it stood for.

Dib groaned as he snapped one of his arms back into place before he left bruising touches along Zim’s hips. “You can’t even deny it. You can’t stand the thought of not having me, right where you want me.”

“Never!” Zim spat. The pungent odor of pheromones tainted the air, and Zim ignored how it was a mixture of two different kinds. “If I’m not letting you go, it’s because you haven’t learned that this is where you belong.”

Beneath him. Underneath him. Below him. Dib was his. His, his  _ his.  _ It didn’t matter if he was hunting or feeding or  _ lusting _ , only Zim could decide when he could do those things. It didn’t matter what the beast said to counter him, he was wrong. He was wrong every time no matter how many times he said it, and he was going to remind him again.

Zim didn’t know how Dib could turn his chin up with his body so distorted, but he did, and he sneered. “Prove it, then.”

Dib’s shirt turned to rags in his claws as Zim raked them down the beast’s chest. Dib let out an unrestrained moan in return as he snapped his back into place. He grabbed Zim’s wrist before he could retract his hand and pressed his claws down into his breast. Thick blood oozed out of the fresh wounds and through his claws as Dib arched his back into the motion. So disgusting, so delicious.

“I hate you,” Zim whispered.

“I hate you, too.”

Zim was yanked backwards by the wrist Dib had, and he let out a snarl as his PAK thudded against the grates. Dib towered over him, blood dripping from the wound in his chest as Zim watched the bruises from the broken bones quickly heal. “Sloppy, Space boy.” He made do on his advantage and shredded the Invader’s uniform with his teeth. Zim cursed and kicked at his waist, suppressing the sudden shudder that came when his bare skin met chilling fingers. Dib ran his tongue down his newly exposed chest. “You’re slacking...how shameful.”

Zim’s teeth sunk into his shoulder, pulling a moan from Dib caught between pain and pleasure. He yanked him sideways, rolling on top of him again and dug his claws into the barely healed wounds of his wrists, making sure to twist his claws deep into the gashes. “Zim is your _master_ and you will address me as such,” he spat once he released his jaw. Blood splattered the pale face below him just as much as his words. “And do you ever shut up?”

Dib bucked his hips and uprooted Zim from his seat. The two bashed heads and Dib inhaled at the pain while Zim hissed. “Why don’t you make me...master?”

Zim knew better than to put his lips on Dib’s, on that weapon, but he did. He paid for it. His face burned when those fangs broke his skin, sewing them together with Zim’s blood as the threads. He tasted like death. Dib groaned as the luscious liquid slipped past his lips. He rutted up against the alien, and Zim, overstimulated from blood loss and lust, grinded back with a broken chirp.

Dib eventually released his mouth and smiled, his fangs tinted pink. “Oh, you smell amazing. Look how perfect you are, coming apart at the seams for me.” Dib shoved him back and they quickly collided against the wall at the far side of the lab. “You don’t just tolerate this, you  _ thrive  _ off it. Thrive on the power struggle, the violence, the  _ primitive  _ act of being conquered.” He shoved his hips against Zim’s spread legs, and he smiled wider as more chirps and moans escaped the green lips. “You look to me for this satisfaction because only  _ I _ am worthy of satisfying you.”

Zim’s mind was growing fuzzy with desire the longer Dib mercilessly humped his burning need against his soaked entrance. He could feel the aphrodisiac venom pumping through his veins with each thud of his spooch and being slammed against the wall. It was all going so fast. His antennae rang with the beating of the lab as it sped up infinitely. When had it gotten so loud? So fast?

He whimpered as a hand wrapped around his antennae, and his head was slammed against the wall. “Are you going to satisfy  _ me _ , Zim? Master?” Dib’s breath tingled against his neck.

Every part of Zim screamed for Dib to cut to the chase, to be rough and unforgiving. Just take him. Zim knew Dib wouldn’t object, in fact the only reason he hadn’t taken what he wanted anytime before was because he was waiting for the right words. Zim has trained him well, but not well enough.

Zim blinked away his foggy desire and attempted to speak through the ruts. “Does my  _ pet _ deserve to be satisfied?”

The rutting stopped. Zim only had seconds to recover before he was thrown across the room. He shrieked as he smacked something with a sharp edge and groaned as he hit the floor. “I am not your  _ pet!”  _ Zim was recaptured in the grip again. “I am a  _ beast!” _

Zim snapped his head to meet those eyes. They burned with liquid anger. “You’re  _ my  _ Dib-Beast.” They didn’t break their eye contact as Dib shook with ever growing rage. Zim grinned with ever growing satisfaction. “Say you’re my Dib-Beast.”

Dib bared his fangs with a loud hiss and dove for his neck, only to screech and jolt back as blue arcs of electricity pulsed down his body. Zim stood, ignoring his broken leg, and hobbled over to stand over him. Dib’s hands were on his collar, trying to pry it off as he howled in pain, but Zim knew he couldn’t. No being in the universe could break through Irken metal.

“Say you’re my Dib-Beast.”

“Go to hell!” He convulsed as he was hit with another shock wave.

“Say it.”

“Fuck you!” Another shock cut through him.

“Say it.”

“No!” Another shock.

“Say it,” Zim whispered, leering.

Dib trembled on the floor but met the Irken’s eyes with confidence. “I am...your Dib-Beast...” he rasped, eyebrows furrowed with anger. Zim narrowed his eyes at the statement, cocking his head and flicking his antennae expectantly. Dib snarled lightly before bowing his head. “I am your Dib-beast...Master…”

“Good, Dib-Beast,” Zim purred, trailing his claws through his hair. After a few light pets, he gripped it sharply and yanked his head back. “Now...satisfy me.”

His leggings were ripped away with a rough swipe of Dib’s strong hands as he was tackled to the ground again. He was attacked by that mouth, his fangs sinking into his skin to draw more pink blood from him. Zim moaned and wrapped his arms and legs around his shoulders and waist, unapologetically digging his claws in. Dib shoved his hips into Zim’s, roughly rutting into his aching entrance, and Zim couldn’t stop the chirps or the way he rutted back to meet Dib’s movements.

“You like that, Master?” Dib grunted, not letting up on his movements. “You like when I satisfy you this way?”

“Don't stop, Dib-beast,” Zim moaned, wanton and lewd. “You better not stop or I’ll make you sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on stopping, Master _.  _ I’ll satisfy you, but only if I get to satisfy myself first.”

Zim hissed as Dib sank his fangs into the fragile skin of his neck, but it turned into a series of chirps as his blood started to drain. A new surge of lust burned his veins as the poison took its hold. Everything felt heavier and more intense at the same time. The beast's skin was so cold it burned, and the sound of his spooch pounded inside his antennae so hard he became lightheaded. All the while, Dib’s movements continued until he eventually pulled away. He licked his dirty lips as pink blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth, panting like a filthy canine animal. He paused for a moment to stare down Zim’s body, pulling a shudder from the alien as he finally realized how exposed he was, how  _ wet  _ he was.

“You’re so fucking cruel, Master,” he chuckled, peeling the remains of his coat off his shoulders. “First you ruin my favorite coat, and then you ruin my pants? I’ve been good to you today.” He slowly unbuttoned the black cloth, letting it fall to the floor in a wet heap from Zim’s slick. Zim nearly blushed as he saw the shimmering liquid pooling on the floor. “Perhaps I should make you wait…”

“You will  _ not!” _

Dib dropped to his knees. “And what will you do about it?” He smirked. “You gonna shock me? Make me feel pain while you lie here, dripping wet?” He pulled Zim’s knees apart and up towards his shoulders. “No...you won’t do that. So, I’ll make you wait.”

Zim shrieked as Dib’s fingers sank into his entrance. The cold digits twisted hard and deep before they pulled out and plunged back in again, leaving Zim a mewling, hissing mess. His claws dug themselves into Dib’s back while he attempted to kick his legs free from the iron grip. Dib chuckled darkly, scissoring his opening to encourage more of Zim’s struggles. “That’s it, Master. Squirm for me. Show your beast how much you want him to defile you.”

“Bratty—little—pet!” Zim barely managed to gasp out as those fingers continued to stroke his sensitive insides. He dragged his fingers through Dib’s skin, determined to prove his displeasure despite his desperate chirps. “Stop your—teasing!”

Dib let his eyes meet Zim’s before pulling out his fingers completely. “As you wish, Master.”

Zim was about to give a nasty remark about Dib’s insubordinate behavior, but before he could voice anything, he screamed as Dib shoved himself deep inside him. His body spasmed with the force of a sudden and intense orgasm, his back arching up into Dib’s chest and his claws anchoring in his pecks. His voice got away from him as he cursed in Irken, the pleasure too overwhelming to form anything cohesive. He missed Dib’s groan from being fully sheathed inside him, and the only reason he caught it was because Zim could feel it  _ vibrating  _ through the beast’s body. It was deep and primal and Zim hated the way he loved it.

“Oh, Master,” Dib cooed. “Have you finished already?” His chilling fingers stroked his chin, a gentle touch compared to everything else. “Do you want me to pull out?”

Zim grunted something incohesive and struggled to move his limbs.

“No? Well...I guess I’ll continue then.” Dib pulled out and slammed into him with unrestrained strength and Zim discovered that his lungs could only handle so much screaming. He was involuntarily rocked with Dib’s hard thrusts, which he knew he was doing purposefully to take advantage of his blissful state. The rubbing of Dib’s cock created a mixture of sensitivity and pleasure that overstimulated his insides, turning them to mush, and he couldn’t tell if his hesitation to stop it was due to his being tired or it feeling too good. “How does it feel, Master? Am I satisfying you?”

Zim cracked open his eyes and was unsurprised by the dangerous smirk that greeted him. “Dis—obedient pet,” he hissed.

Fangs sank into his shoulder before pulling away sharply. “You love it. I know you do.”

“I—” He shrieked with another thrust. “I hate you!”

“I hate you, too.” Dib lapped at his wounds, slurping his skin. “And yet you want this, you little whore. Otherwise I’d be in pieces by now.”

Zim didn’t know what was worse: that he was right, or that he knew that would be the case. He kicked out, catching Dib in the hip and managing to get his PAK out from under him. He freed his PAK legs and turned them over, Dib underneath him still smirking like the disobedient brat that he was. “I can still pull you to pieces if I choose to.” He grabbed Dib by the arm, twisting the elbow in on itself to the point where it was surely painful. “You don’t think I will?”

Dib’s eyes fluttered, his breathing stuttered, his smirk faltered. “No.”

“Know your place.” Zim snapped the bone.

Dib screamed, the sound like a dying animal writhing before slaughter. “I know my place! I know it, Master!”

Zim purred, kneading his claws in Dib’s muscles and blood at the sight of him falling apart. “And where is it?”

“Beneath you! Underneath you! Below you!”

“Good, my pet.” Zim twisted his arm again, the bone groaning before it splintered more. “Tell me what you want.”

Dib whimpered beneath him, stuttered moans escaping his lips. “Master, please ride me. Ride me hard! Show me my place and make me take it. Just fuck me! Please!”

Zim lifted himself off Dib’s cock, basking in the desperate whimper that rippled through the beast, and activated his PAK legs to pin him to the wall by his wrists and ankles. Zim didn’t situate himself back on Dib’s cock until his hips were wet with fresh wounds. He gave a harsh thrust. “I’m going to ride you against the wall.”

“Yes, Master.”

Zim planted his feet against the wall and anchored his claws behind Dib’s shoulders. “And you’re going to take it like the good pet you are.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Now...who do you belong to?”

“You—Ah!” Dib cried as Zim slammed down on him, bucking his hips to meet him.

“That’s right, you’re mine,” Zim continued. “You’re mine to break, mine to keep, mine to fuck whenever I please.” He dug his claws into Dib’s shoulders and he whimpered.

“You-ours to do as you plea-ease,” Dib stuttered.

Zim chirped as he rode him, the feeling of Dib’s cock plunging in and out of his entrance sending euphoric feelings down his spine. He arched his back every time he sheathed himself, his claws digging deeper into the meaty flesh as Dib moaned unapologetically with him. Praises and begs dripped from his mouth just as thick as the leftover blood from his feedings. He looked so mangled, hair disheveled and matted, wounds bruising his skin. His broken arm was leaking blood around the protruding bone at his elbow and he was  _ loving  _ it. It was proclaimed in every noise and every movement. Disgusting creature,  _ his  _ disgusting creature. Every once in a while, Zim snuck a glance at his face, those golden eyes dark with desire and screaming unspoken wishes his panting mouth was too busy to ask for. He cursed himself when he couldn’t look away, a warm feeling different than a building orgasm pooling deep in his spooch. Trapped by those eyes again.

He growled as he slammed into him harder. “You’re such a bad little pet, making me want this. You deserve to be punished.”

Dib nodded eagerly. “I deserve to be punished.”

“Zim will punish you, break every single limb of yours and make you choke on your blood.” Zim glided his tongue along Dib’s jugular and he jolted. “I will beat the resistance out of you and make you my little slave that will never disobey me.”

“I’ll n-never disobey you.”

“Yes, yes, good! Yes, pet!” The warmth in Zim’s spooch grew stronger, spreading up his chest and down to his feet. He curled his toes as he prepared himself, etching into the metal walls. “My little beast, I’m going to ruin you like you ruined me.”

“Ruin me, Master,” Dib begged.

“You selfish beast, you never wanted to let me go. Now I’m here and I’ll never let you go.” His abdomen was boiling, gurgling. He took one of his bloody hands and sunk his claws into Dib’s cheek. “Mine forever. I own you!”

Dib’s movements and breathing stuttered and he shut his eyes. “M-Master—”

“Say you’re mine!” He shook Dib’s chin, grinding his cock. His body was so hot he couldn’t take it. It was more than just an orgasm he wanted, it was a burning need that had been left unsatiated for too long. An admission he needed to hear him say in order to fill the void deep in his chest, one that had been aching for 5 months 14 days 9 hours and 59 minutes. “Say that I own you, say that you’ll never leave! Say it or I’ll never let you finish!”

Dib choked on something, though what, Zim didn’t know. His eyes refused to open as something clear leaked out. “Yours,” he mumbled, “yours forever.”

“Louder!”

“I’m yours!” he screamed, throwing his head up. “I’ll never leave you because I’m yours! Let me cum for you. I want to cum inside you! Please, Master,  _ please!” _

A string of Irken words fell from Zim’s mouth as he pistoned Dib’s cock faster than ever.“Hate you. Hate you so much,” he chanted. “I can’t stand you and I can’t stand the things you do to me. Hate that I need this now, hate that I need you. Hate you hate you hate you!” Zim continued to ride him until it was too much, and he cried as he spilled over the edge. His walls pulled around Dib’s cock, holding it in a vice-like grip that caused the beast to choke on his words, and then he came, too, his liquid spilling deep into his entrance that it caused Zim to shiver.

They panted together, their minds foggy and tired as they tried to situate their trembling limbs. Eventually, Zim managed to pry his claws from Dib’s flesh, his PAK legs following suit. They dropped to the floor harshly, and Dib hissed as his broken arm twisted. They didn’t move though, too overwhelmed with the burden of their actions, even if every instinct told Zim to get away from such an inferior creature. The release of his orgasm left him strangely hollow and cold, not even the warm pulse of his squeedlyspooch enough to convince him that he wasn’t. Where was the satisfying feeling? Dib had admitted it and he let him finish, so why did it feel like he was emptier than before? His body refused to stop its trembling. He couldn’t explain why his antennae tucked themselves in Dib’s hair or how his arms wound themselves around Dib’s torso. He was just tired, that was all.

Zim laid his head against Dib’s cold chest, having to remind himself that not hearing a pulse was normal for his kind. Still, it made the creature beneath him feel empty, lifeless, and Zim knew he wasn’t. In the heat of the moment, Zim had forgotten about the pulse of the lab, and soon it creeped back into his hearing as he came down to reality. It reverberated in Dib’s chest, and so he pretended that the mechanical ticks would suffice for his beast’s heartbeat.

After all, it was just as cold and empty and lifeless as he was.

Zim didn’t know how long they stayed there, but soon Dib stirred beneath him and sat up, taking Zim with him. He was about to scold him for moving too soon, but he gently pulled out and licked at the marks along his neck, slightly sore from the rough treatment. Strangely, the act didn’t feel as disgusting as it did previously. Zim assumed that he was just lapping up the remnants of his blood, but the wounds have started to scab already; even the marks along his lips don’t sting as much as they did previously and the poison that flowed through his veins has already been filtered out of his bloodstream. 

Eventually, he pulled away, but he didn’t look him in the eyes. “Did you mean the things you said? About it being my fault that you’re here?

Zim blinked in surprise before looking up at him. He hardened his gaze. “What’re you talking about? Of course it’s your fault that I’m here. Why would I say things that I did not mean?”

Something flashed through those golden eyes, too fast to catch before he steeled his gaze. “I am nothing but a toy to you.” It wasn’t a question.

Zim studied him closely and how those eyes were different than before. They still made him feel things, dangerous things no Irken soldier should, but this was a different feeling, and it made the hollow hole in his chest widen. Slowly, he nodded his head. “Nothing more than I was to you.”

He expected those eyes to burn with anger, explode with rage before pinning him down and draining him of his blood. He expected him to scream and hiss before he sank those fangs down into his neck to silence him forever. He expected him to dig his nails into his flesh and rip out his organs before he ate him alive. Instead, he looked away and asked one question, “Are you satisfied?”

Zim was startled by the question. The answer came to him easily, but the silence dragged on longer than he meant it to. No, he wasn’t satisfied, and he couldn’t formulate a reason why he wouldn’t be. Dib had done what he wanted him to, said what he wanted him to, yet it did nothing for him. He was still missing something. Or did he want something more? He shook his head and answered, “Yes, Zim is satisfied.”

Dib nodded and went to shove him off, however he winced when he moved his still broken arm. Before he tried to muscle through the pain, Zim stilled his movements and set the bones back into place. It didn’t take long before the bones mended themselves and he was able to move again. The two shifted off each other and dressed in silence, facing away from each other the entire time. Dib must’ve finished before Zim because it went quiet for a while, signaling that he must’ve slipped away. Zim grimaced at that, silently telling himself that it was fine, that it was normal, that he didn’t care. He didn’t care.

“I hate you.” The whisper came as a surprise, the quietness of it piercing through Zim’s bones. He shuddered. The words were spiteful, jabbing at him for saying it so many times, but the tone was not. The tone was sad, and that hurt more than any lethal strike.

“I hate you, too,” Zim said without thinking.

The cogs of the lab continued to beat, but it was empty, devoid of life even though it never had one in the first place. Zim sat himself back at his desk, stiffly, and grabbed some new tools. He worked for an indescribable amount of time, tightening springs and welding gears. The feeling in his chest refused to go away, hours passing as he tried to ignore it. His vision grew blurry from staring at the parts for so long, but it didn’t clear when he rubbed his eyes. His hands came away wet. He shook again, but it wasn’t from rage, and tried to go back to work. But how could he work when each trinket broke in his hands, not able to handle the pressure he put upon them, not able to tick properly like they were meant to? Zim was not made to have time for broken, useless,  _ defective  _ tools.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on social media!
> 
> [ My NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/EnbyDibBitch) Pretty please don't follow if you're under 18. I will look you up and block if I must.
> 
> [ My SFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/_Dramance)
> 
> [ My Tumblr](https://dramancewrite.tumblr.com/) Asks open!


End file.
